Destroying Magic

by David Meyer

  Everyone was so busy recovering that no one saw the newcomer. No one, that is, but me. He materialized within the Grille, looking dim and hazy at first before turning into a full-fledged person. He was a few years older than me. His skin was pale white. His hair was dense and black. He wore a tunic, belted with a steel blue sash. A wand, long and thin, filled his hand.

  Instantly, I disliked him. I didn’t know why. But it reminded me of the discomfort I’d always felt around Tad.

  An empty chair flew up to catch him. Meanwhile, more people materialized within the Grille. They came in all skin colors and body types. I saw more men than women, but it was close. As for age, they ranged from teenagers to thirty-somethings.

  With the goblet fully capped, Boltstar twisted around. He surveyed the newcomers with a hard eye. “You’re trespassing,” he announced. “Please leave at once.”

  The tunic-wearing kid kicked his feet from a standing position, driving the chair upward until he was level with Boltstar. “You must be Lanctin. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Jaw slightly agape, I glanced at Tad. “Who are these people?”

  “My friends, my family. We’re Chaotics, Randy. And we’re here to reclaim what’s ours.” With his wand held firmly aloft, he gave me a quick look. “We’re here for Madkey.”

  Chapter 13

  Galison got off the first shot, sending a screaming almond streak at the tunic-wearer’s head. The boy ducked the attack and lifted his wand. One second later, a magenta bolt raced forth. It hit Galison in the stomach and the professor doubled over in pain.

  “They’re Chaotics,” Norch shouted. “They’ve infiltrated the school!”

  Crisscrossing streams of light went airborne. A couple of Chaotics were felled quickly. Their chairs caught them, then hovered in mid-air, still and silent. But more Chaotics arrived to take their place. Lots of chairs flew up to catch them. So many, in fact, that I wondered if we’d run out of enchanted seats.

  Taking stock of things, these new Chaotics went on the attack. A couple of faculty members, including Professor Lellpoppy, fell under the ensuing onslaught.

  I watched all of this with a kind of detached awe, too horrified to even move. The Chaotics still existed? Admittedly, I’d briefly toyed with the idea after Piper had discovered the Hibernuction spell. But I hadn’t really taken it seriously. Honestly, who could blame me? As a philosophy, Chaotics had died decades ago, long before my birth. Its adherents, to the best of my knowledge, had died as well. I’d grown up in a world dominated by Structuralism. To my generation, Chaotic was a serious and rude insult, used primarily by political types.

  But now, I saw the error of my ways. The Chaotics, somehow, had survived Victory Day. Tad, my supposed friend, was one of them. Evidently, he’d used the Hibernuction spell on MacPherson after all. That meant he was related to Boris and part of the Hynor family. In other words, he was Chaotic royalty, if such a thing existed. Was that why I’d always felt uncomfortable around him? Had some part of me known the ugly truth?

  “This is going to get nasty,” he told me. “Get back to the dorm. Don’t come out until it’s over.”

  His wand was still aloft, still aimed at the ancient station. As the tawny light continued to pulse and throb, I started to put a few things together. Madkey, of course, was protected by enchanted borders. So, the Chaotics had planted Tad within the school. He’d opened the ancient conveyance station, allowing his people entrance via the Floating Abyss.

  More newcomers materialized. Boltstar, Wadflow, Galison, Norch, and other faculty members rained spells upon them. The battle grew fierce and both sides lost wizards and witches. Meanwhile, Professor Whitlock took charge of the students and staffers, hustling them to safety inside of Madkey Library.

  I turned an angry eye toward Tad. “Are you crazy?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You’re hurting people.”

  “It’s the only way.”

  I stared at the developing action. Strange witches and wizards filled all of Torso, throwing weird spells at Madkey’s professors. Josh Hunt, professor in the Magictainment department, took a bolt of light to the chest and went completely limp. And I do mean, limp. It was as if all the bones in his body had suddenly turned into jelly. Meanwhile, Professor Lidia Gaibie from the Conveyance department got hit by a spell and found her arms growing longer and longer. They wrapped clear around her body, tying her into the oddest knot I’d ever seen.

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Try me,” I repeated.

  He kept quiet, his attention focused on his spell. Frustrated, I grabbed his shoulder. His wand shifted and the tawny light broke off. Slowly, it began to unravel from the old conveyance station. A partially-materialized woman, attired in a loose-fitting dress and clutching a crooked wand, started to fade.

  A violent push spilled me to the floor. Words, too quiet to hear, flowed from Tad’s mouth. A new spell raced forth. It connected to the unraveling light, reforming the net around the ancient station. The woman fully materialized. A chair caught hold of her. Screaming like a banshee, she twisted this way and that, firing spells in multiple directions.

  “We’re the good guys,” Tad said. “That’s all you need to know.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.” I retrieved my wand from the bridge, not really sure what I’d do with it. Havoc magic was a highly-specialized set of fighting spells, none of which I knew.

  Tad’s face twisted. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then help me understand.” I stepped between him and the old station. “Let’s go somewhere, talk this out.”

  He gave me a long, steely look. “Move.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll take you down. I don’t want to, but I will.”

  I didn’t back down. But that was only because I was too scared to move.

  He broke off the spell. His wand zigged and zagged. “Blastfor.”

  I gasped as a heavy force struck my chest. In agony, I stumbled sideways and collided with the railing.

  As I sank to the ground, Tad waved his wand again. Another spell raced forth, reconnecting to the original spell.

  My breaths came in short, heaving gasps. My chest hurt so bad I wondered if I’d broken a rib. Feeling lightheaded, I glanced toward the Grille. What I saw caused my heart to palpitate. Madkey’s faculty was world-famous. And yet, the Chaotics—despite fewer numbers—were winning the fight.

  Professor after professor fell before their attacks. Only the presence of Boltstar, along with the faculty’s larger numbers, kept it from becoming a complete slaughter.

  My chest burned as I stood up. Yup, I’d definitely broken a rib. Maybe two ribs. I was in no shape to fight and I knew it. My best bet was to get clear.

  Across the Grille, I spotted the woman in the loose-fitting dress. She was still whipping about, still wailing like a banshee. She was here now, but she’d almost missed her chance. When I’d grabbed Tad’s shoulder, I’d interrupted his spell. She’d started to fade. Only by recasting the spell had he been able to ensure her arrival.

  So, Tad hadn’t just opened the conveyance station. No, he was keeping it open. If I could break his spell again, the station would close, shutting off the Chaotics pipeline. That might be enough to help Boltstar and the professors repel the invasion.

  I zeroed in on Tad. No one seemed to notice him. Certainly, no one was going to stop him.

  No one, that is, but me.

  Chapter 14

  I stuffed my wand into my pocket. My ribs ached as I marched forward. I felt winded and yet, I couldn’t refill my lungs. But there was nothing I could do about that now.

  This is going to hurt, I told myself. Badly.

  I rammed my shoulder into Tad’s back. Pain exploded in my head. It felt like my ribs were on fire.

  His body careened into the railing and he dropped to the bridge. I collapsed
on top of him and the pain turned agonizing. Tad tried to maneuver his wand, but I grabbed hold of his wrist. The spell broken, his tawny light began to unravel from around the station.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he cried.

  “Yeah, I do.” My teeth clenched. “Stopping you.”

  He tried to squirm out from underneath me. But my weight kept him pinned down. Meanwhile, the fighting continued. Chaotics chased the faculty around Lower-Torso, spinning spells at every turn. But they were still outnumbered. And with Tad immobilized, the gate was now closed. That was all it took to turn the tide.

  Standing tall, Boltstar roared through Torso, shouting orders in either direction. Riding their chairs, the faculty retreated to an area near Right Leg. Undeterred, the Chaotics attempted a full-on attack. They took out a few professors, but lost some of their own as well.

  One kid in his late teens took an almond light to the neck. He fell to his knees, clutching his throat and gasping for air. Another boy, a few years younger, took one of Wadflow’s spells to the leg. Bones crunched. Collapsing in his chair, he clutched his useless limb, shrieking at the top of his lungs.

  Sensing an opportunity, the faculty surged forward. Dividing into groups, they raced to isolate and crush their opponents. The Chaotics, realizing at last that the ancient conveyance station had been closed, started to panic.

  Tad jabbed me in the ribs with his free hand. My breath caught in my throat. Quickly, he slid out from underneath me. Standing up, he aimed his wand at the station. His lips started to move.

  I struggled back to my feet. A few unsteady steps took me to the railing.

  As his magic started to flow, Tad glanced in my direction. “Wait, Randy. Just wait. Let me—”

  I felt a rush of air. Looking down, I caught a glimpse of Boltstar sailing through Torso, whipping off all kinds of spells. Some sailed harmlessly into the bridges or glass plates. But more often than not, he hit his mark.

  He glanced over his shoulder, looking my way although not directly at me. His wand shifted and cyan light filled my field of vision. My eyes widened. I shied away even as I braced for the inevitable.

  Air rushed out of my lungs as Tad crashed into me. I hit the ground and he landed on top of me. His wand squirted out of his hand. It rolled to the edge of the bridge, then dropped into open air.

  He rolled away. His face twisted in agony and his hands clawed at his shoulder. Puffing his cheeks in and out, he shifted his arm, testing his range of motion. Then he looked for his wand, only to discover it was gone.

  I blinked a few times and saw a hole in his shirt, surrounded by scorch marks. A small black dot marred his skin. It looked like someone had burnt him with a fireplace poker.

  A sharp breath escaped me. I recognized that wound. I’d only seen it in books, but I recognized it all the same.

  It was the Gratlan.

  The Gratlan was a death spell, the only one of its kind. It was one of a dozen or so forbidden spells contained within the Capsudra. As such, its mechanics were unknown to the general public. But its effects were feared by all.

  The Gratlan spread through a person with excruciating slowness, killing them bit by bit. The entire process could take up to forty-eight hours. Forty-eight agonizing, horrible hours.

  “Your shoulder,” I wheezed. “It’s the Gratlan …”

  He glanced at the wound again, then studied the battle. There was no anger or fear in his eyes. All I saw was sadness.

  “Sorry, Randy.” His voice was soft, strained. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t …”

  Wincing, he checked his wound again. He touched the black dot, then yanked his hand away as if he’d burnt it.

  With some effort, he rose to a crouch.

  Then he hurried away.

  Chapter 15

  Running with busted ribs isn’t easy. Or fun. Or even possible for very long. Still, I managed to keep up a decent pace as I hustled into Left Arm. Tad was heading toward the staffer dorm so it caught me by surprise when he cut his speed shy of Shadow Madkey. Throwing open one of the many doors, he vanished from sight.

  I followed him in close pursuit. Reaching the door, I saw it was marked, Warning, Foolish Traveler! Cursed Stars Lie Ahead!

  I’d passed the room plenty of times since joining the staff. So, I was familiar with the sign.

  I just had no clue what it meant.

  I pulled my wand out of its holster. Having lost his wand, Tad was no longer a threat. Not that I had any plan to engage him. No, I just needed to keep him in sight.

  I opened the door. A winding stone tunnel, lined with small windows and bathed in moonlight, awaited me.

  Exhaling, I felt a distinct ache in my ribs. Still it could’ve been worse. If not for Tad, I’d be suffering the Gratlan right now. Maybe he hadn’t known it was a death spell at the time. And maybe he’d put me in danger in the first place. But still, he’d saved my life. From Boltstar, no less.

  The headmaster’s actions confused me. Why had he used the Gratlan? Casting such a spell was far from heroic. Then again, maybe I was being too hard on him. It wasn’t like he’d just thrown the Gratlan out there for fun. He’d cast it while fighting Chaotics. He’d cast it in order to defeat an evil philosophy that had suddenly and violently returned from the grave.

  I eased the door shut. Light clambering sounds caught my attention. Swiftly, I walked through the tunnel. It curved to the left and I soon found myself parallel to Left Arm’s main hallway.

  The stone floor began to slope upward. My brow furrowed as I rose higher and higher. I’d never been in this part of Madkey before and from the looks of it, neither had anyone else in a very long time. Where was Tad going anyway?

  The path straightened out. A dull glow rose up from the floor. Chatter, too soft to discern, filled my ears. I walked a little farther and realized the glow came from a metal grating. Peering down, I found myself staring into Torso.

  The battle was over. Numerous faculty members were strewn across the Upper-Torso bridge. They were all disabled in weird ways. Whitlock used levitation spells to direct the injured toward Right Arm. I assumed she was taking them to the clinic.

  Tough luck for them.

  Shifting my gaze, I saw Chaotics. Lots of them. They lay on the lower bridges, still and silent. Were they dead? Unconscious? Seeing them like that, vulnerable and defeated, sent tiny waves of sympathy through me. But my concerns were quickly crushed by righteous fury.

  Plain and simple, they’d attacked us. They’d tried to conquer Madkey. Despite Tad’s claim, they were the bad ones. They were the ones practicing a defunct, dangerous philosophy. As far as I was concerned, they deserved whatever happened to them.

  Boltstar’s voice floated up to me. “What’s your name, Son?”

  The headmaster and a group of professors stood on chairs floating in the middle of the Grille. They encircled a lone boy, dressed in a close-fitting tunic. It was the kid I’d seen earlier, the first one to come through the conveyance station. He appeared unharmed and a bit panicky. His wand, clutched in trembling fingers, was aimed at his throat.

  “Ivan.” The boy licked his lips. “Ivan Gully.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Gully. I’m Lanctin Boltstar.”

  “Spare me the pleasantries. I know who you are. I know all about you.”

  “Why don’t you lower your wand? We’ll go somewhere safe and talk.” His face brightened. “Do you like canfee? We’ve got lots of canfee here.”

  “Spare me the nice guy act. I know the truth, even if none of your bootlickers do. I know what really happened on Victory Day.” He spat the words, Victory Day, as if infuriated to even speak them.

  “I’m afraid you have me at a loss, Mr. Gully. But if you just hand over your wand—”

  “Why? So you can skin me? It won’t work.” Ivan leered. “I don’t have an anchor. None of us do.”

  “That’s quite alright, Mr. Gully. We—” Boltstar waved his free hand at the professors. “—just wan
t to help you.”

  “Forget it.” He jabbed the wand deeper into his neck, pinching the flesh. His lips began to move. He was quick.

  But Boltstar was quicker.

  “Drodiate,” the headmaster called out with a sudden flourish of his wand.

  A cyan spell barreled into Ivan’s belly. It encompassed him, wrapped around him. His lips sealed shut and he stiffened up. He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

  My heart slammed against my chest. Like the Gratlan, the Drodiation Curse was a forbidden spell. It was a rather cruel fate, even for a Chaotic. Essentially, Boltstar had turned the kid into a living, breathing statue. Ivan was fully awake and one-hundred percent conscious. He could see, hear, smell, and taste things. He just couldn’t move.

  More clambering noises caught my attention and I stared into the darkness. Tad was still out there. And while he’d lost his wand and been cursed with the Gratlan, I knew I couldn’t take him for granted. He was a Chaotic, after all, and would do just about anything to avoid capture.

  You’ve tracked him far enough, I told myself. It’s time to get Boltstar. He’ll take care of this.

  It was a powerful argument and it almost swayed me. But after a brief internal struggle, I started forward again. Once Boltstar got involved, I’d never see Tad again. And I wanted one last chance to talk to him.

  A short walk led me to a hallway. Men’s and women’s bathrooms lay on either side of it. I gave them a quick check before continuing on my way. At the end of the hallway, I found a ladder. Above, I glimpsed a hatch. It opened up into what looked like a large space, flooded with moonlight. Soft breaths, punctuated by the occasional gasp, reached my ears.

  Ribs burning like fire, I scaled the rungs. I had to grit my teeth to keep going. Near the top, I slowed my ascent. My head swiveled in either direction. I didn’t see Tad, so I kept climbing, albeit slowly and cautiously.

  Peeking my head through the opening, I saw a large and well-appointed room. Odd bronze and silver contraptions rested on the floor, shrouded in thick layers of dust. Fine tables and chairs, clearly of a bygone era, were neatly positioned on a hand-sewn, decorative carpet. Busts and statues, beautifully carved, sat quietly on some of the tables as well as on the floor. Nearby, I saw a free-standing fireplace. It was free of dust, indicating it had been used recently. A circular chimney, made of smooth stones, lifted up to the ceiling. I saw no logs or kindling, indicating the fireplace was of the enchanted variety.